xviii.

HOLLIS CHECKED THE address on his phone one last time before he knocked on the door. He'd had to drive all the way out into the middle of nowhere to find this place. It was a rundown building that had once been an inn and restaurant with an attached golf course. But now, it was just vine covered and crumbling, the paint peeling away, the sign collapsed into the parking lot.

He half-expected nothing to happen when he knocked, but the door opened, and inside, he felt the breath of magic and saw a rush of green light.

The pixie at the door looked him over.

Hollis gave the password in the fae tongue, the ancient tongue that most of the mortals didn't even know how to speak anymore. This pixie wasn't some pureblood pixie, after all. She didn't have the blood of Faerie coursing through her veins.

The pixie inclined her head after he'd given the password and allowed him inside.

Inside, the place looked dingy and dark, but he could see bits of magic here and there. Glowing green vines that burst out with sparkling magical dust were scattered here and there over the walls. The pixie was wearing a glowing flower crown.

"Well met, traveler," said the pixie. "What brings you here? Are you here to petition the Court?"

"I wish to see her," said Hollis.

The pixie drew back. "Y-you… you can't just show up and demand an audience, you know. Who are you?"

"I'm called Hollis Mac," he said. "She'll likely recognize the name if you pass it along to her. She'll see me."

The pixie's eyes widened. "You can't think I personally would talk to her? She doesn't speak to the likes of me, and she isn't going to speak to you either."

"Well, whoever does speak to her, tell her that name." He hunched up his shoulders. He wasn't in a good mood.

"Oh, yes," said the pixie, throwing up both her hands. "Just mention my name to the Faerie Queen." Sarcastic, she sauntered off.

Hollis waited for a bit but the pixie never came back. Eventually, he began to wander further into the abandoned building.

He passed an open door where a group of redcaps were playing cards at a table—whether their caps were dyed red or stained with the blood of their enemies was a conversation not to get into with a redcap, he'd learned a long time ago.

Another of the rooms had a faerie feast laid out on a groaning table, the food glowing and delicate and enticing.

Then the pixie appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "Well, well, well," she said, "seems you were quite right. Who are you?"

"Santa Claus," he said, deadpan.

The pixie gave him a withering look. "This way." She let him down a long and winding corridor, which seemed to go on too long, and he wondered if they were really still in the building or if things had warped a bit, if there was a pocket of Faerie inside this building now, something expansive and meandering.

Finally, there was a door. It had a large brass doorknob in the very center.

"Go on," said the pixie. "Enter, if you dare. Just as likely you won't come out again."

Hollis let out a breath and touched the knob.

The door jerked open and sucked him through into utter blackness.